


Bottle Rockets

by Rookmoon



Series: Short Friendly Encounters [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Blankets, Bottle Rockets, Cinnamon Roll Papyrus, Gen, Ice, Platonic Relationships, Pranks, Protective Sans, Snowdin, Soup, Things didn't go as planned, home made chicken noodle soup, paps gets sick, puns, teleporting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rookmoon/pseuds/Rookmoon
Summary: A bored Reader leads to cracked ice and a sick Papyrus.It was an accident. I swear.The soup jokes on the other hand, not so much.





	Bottle Rockets

      The underground was the same as when I first got there. After leaving Toriel behind, I was expecting to move on quickly. Then I was caught by Papyrus after tripping over one bone too many. It looked more like a kid spilled a giant box full of legos than an attack. Painful and kind of funny, now that I think about it.

      I got out of the cell easily. Papyrus put me back five minutes later. I wasn’t sneaky enough to avoid him, so I practiced and beat his attack on my feet… and maybe with a little help from Sans. That giant bone near the end was taller than my house above ground.

      Now, it’s been a few weeks, and I haven’t been able to get much further. Well, it’s not that I haven’t been able to, more like I don’t really want to leave. I heard that after Waterfall, there’s this boiling place called Hotland. I wonder if it’s like Greenland. I doubt it. All the other places are named after what they are. I don’t wanna go to Hotland. I don’t feel like melting today, or any time soon. But I don’t really feel like going to Waterfall right now either.

      I dig through my pockets, and pull out a candy, a stick, a snowman piece, some pie... How big are these things, anyway? I mean, fitting a whole piece of pie in a pocket is kind of ridiculous. I also pull out a few bottle rockets, a matchbook, and a ball of lint. Putting most of the stuff back into my magic pockets, I decide to fiddle with the only interesting thing I brought with me from the surface.

      The bottle rockets. I was planning on setting them off in this little clearing in the mountains I found on a hike, but then I fell into a giant hole. Lucky they’re still in one piece.

      That’s when I got an idea. The kind of idea that people think and then either laugh at, or do and laugh at how dumb they are after. If anything, this’ll be one heck of a story.

      What would happen if I lit the bottle rocket under a sheet of ice? I mean, I’m in the middle of a town that has been frozen for who knows how long. I’ll just find a patch of ice and find out.

      Looking around on my way to Toriel’s door, I couldn’t see anywhere obvious that I would be able to set off the rockets. All I would need is a sheet of ice, and a hole for crying out loud. How hard is it to find ice when everything is frozen? I crossed the bridge. That might have been a little far.

      I knocked on the door. Just in case. As usual, she didn’t answer. I turned back, and followed my trail of footprints. I wandered around for a while before I decided that it might be a good idea to try this at the sign post with the directions on it. There was a lot of ice over there. I was almost to the sheet of ice when I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle. It must be the cold. I pulled my borrowed jacket tighter, and trudged on.

      By the time I got back to the frozen pond, there was another set of footprints next to mine. I didn’t think much of it. Both Papyrus and Sans had sentry routes this way. Maybe I’d get lucky and Sans would be around here somewhere. Papyrus might like a good explosion as well. The footprints didn’t look like the huge boot tracks that Papyrus trailed all over the place. I took the stick out. I tried hitting the ice with it. Not a scratch. 

      “Ya want somethin' a little more solid?” I flinched, and turned around to see who was laughing at me. It was Sans. No surprise there.

      “This is the only useful thing I’ve got right now.” I glared at the uncracked ice, “I can’t use my precious rockets. They’re for something else.”

      “So you want me to throw you a bone?” Sans has some sort of bone club in his hand. I laugh, and thanked him for the help.

      The ice cracks easily under the blunt force and Sans’ magic. With a little help, soon I’ve got a decent hole, big enough for a rocket or two.

      “So, watcha up to, kiddo?”

      “I’m gonna see what happens when I set of a bottle rocket off under the ice,” I glanced back at him, “and I’m not a kid, Sans. How would you like it if I started calling you bone bag?”

      “You wouldn’t be the first.He chuckled, and stood next to me, eyeing the matches and the rocket in question, “So, how’re you gonna do that? I hear fire don’t work so well with water.” He smiled, “After all, I know one flaming bartender who should know.”

      We both laughed, and I got the first rocket ready. The wick flared to life and we watch as the spark goes into the submerged rocket. I hold my breath. For a second, I expected it to explode in my hands. Nothing happened.

      “Are you sure it’s lit, Pal?” Sans eyed the rocket. Seems like he’s waiting for it to blow up too. I’m about to take the rocket out of the freezing water when the thing goes off. I end up jumping and Sans looks ready to run for it. A circle of ice bursts under the force of the small explosion. That’s bound to draw attention. Sans looks behind us, and I hear feet crunching through the snow.

      “I think it’s time for us to split.” Sans starts sweating when he heard a soft ‘NYEH’ from around the corner. He grabbed my arm and teleported into the nearby bunch of trees. He crouched behind a tree, and saw Papyrus wander over to the ice. Once the tall skeleton spots the web of cracks in the ice, he screamed. Before, I didn’t think he could get any louder. Man, was I wrong. 

      I laughed a little when Papyrus’ eyes bug out of his skull like some old cartoon. Sans snorted at the sight.

      Sans watched his brother carefully. Papyrus stopped screaming. He’s looking for someone. Paps looks at the ice again and decides that it might be a good idea to test its stability. He stepped past the first crack. I heard Sans’ breath hitch when he sees the water wash over the ice. Papyrus doesn’t think much of it, and took another careful step. The great skeleton slipped, and fell into the water with a splash.

      Papyrus doesn’t even make it to the surface before Sans dashed over and fished a blue soul, and his shivering brother, out of the water. Papyrus tries to brush his little slip off as a cleverly planned jape, but interrupts himself with a sneeze. Snot runs out of his nose hole and Papyrus shivered. Sans sighed and teleports his sick brother home.

      I walk behind them, knowing that their house isn’t that far away.

      By the time I catch up, Papyrus is in his warm pajamas, and Sans has wrapped him in every blanket in the house. There’s a few that you’ve never seen before. They must be from his room. Then you see the one with fish all over it. That’s a blanket from Undyne’s. Sans was still fussing over his brother, so I go in the kitchen for food.

      I’ve had spaghetti for the last month that I’ve been here, and it wouldn’t be that good for a sick Paps. I find chicken stock in a cupboard. That gives me an idea.

      I grab all the things I need. The stock is bubbling, and the chicken is cooking. All I need to start now is the pasta. The stock is broiling and it fills me with determination. My favorite comfort food was bound to make Papyrus feel great again!

      After it’s done, I chop up some green onions, and mix it with the pasta, along with the chicken, and it’s ready to serve. The spoons are in the drawer, and the bowls are nowhere to be found.

      “Sans, where are the bowls?” I’m still opening random cupboards.

      “Third cabinet on the right.” Sans shouted from the living room.

      “Want some soup? It’s chicken noodle!” My attempt at a tempting meal makes Sans snort.

      “That would be soup-er.” Papyrus groaned at the pun, and I giggled a little.

      I bring the soup to the table and have the boys come and eat. Sans sat down and started eating right away. Papyrus does the same.

      “HUMAN, WHY IS THIS NOT SPAGHETTI?”

      “Because this is good for when someone’s sick.”

      “Heh. Good thing we keep the kitchen stocked.”

      “INDEED… WAIT A SECOND, BROTHER!-”

      “This should make us broth feel better, bro.”

      “SANS CAN YOU NOT!”

      “Sorry bro. It’s too soup-er to resist.”


End file.
